This particular Festive SeasonĀ® had a remarkably huge hole torn in it.






IMG_1958All my threads were pulled off to one side and crumpled up, but big deal – other people’s threads are way closer to the gaping hole in this time-space continuum, in deep danger of being sucked out into nothingness.




Do what needs to be done; start untangling the weft, reinforce the warp.


I’ve posted this song.

Working in a gallery with a watercolor artist, and listening and looking.

watercolor birch

Roughly 4″x5″.

I have no excuse.

I took these a few weeks ago, when I ran away.

geese cheq bay



We can call these “reasons to live here.”

I was laughing so hard-

“Before we leave Doctor Ben Carson in the sands of Giza, looking for the Pancake Mix of the Gods…”

I might have to knit this, just for the full name: “Bias Stripe Scarf in Flax and Universe.”

Bias Stripe, of course, is the kick-ass blonde navy seal type. Scarf? Don’t know.

Flax and Universe sounds like something from a not-quite Ursula LeGuin novel- not horrible tripe, but not something you’ll remember forever. Or is Flax and Universe an intersection, possibly in a Neil Gaiman story? Flax, at least the ornamental stuff I used to grow, was a beautiful blue – plant it with white cosmos to make a star field?

Maybe the whole thing is the name of a fashion shoot – where the photographer unwittingly records evidence of the disposal of the body of the last person to know the real story behind the assassination of ??? A fashion shoot for Mode O’ Day, maybe. Are they still around? Or Sears. Sears fashion shoot. Grim.

This is possibly why I find it hard to pay attention, sometimes. It is also an explanation of why I dropped out of college the first time around – but that’s a different story.

The manager at my new job out-did me today. I walked up to him with a bunch of thin, raggedy, 1/8 inch wide, 10 to 14 inch long strips of paper, saying I wanted to make a diorama and use them for sheaves of wheat, for a nice autumnal thing. Or maybe make Blair Witch dolls, except we were past Halloween. Manager said, no, we make them now and sneak out at night and put them up along the lake walk, and freak out the little kids.

I like his style.

Many dragons were slain. Some remain. But in the meantime:

Food, glorious food. Easy-peasey. I apparently forgot how much I love to cook. I was nearly singing while I made this. Same thing happened when I made zucchini bread last week. Weird that I forgot, and weird that I get so happy. Weird.

I went out and took pictures on Sunday. I will restrain myself. You only get a few. (Go full screen; they make more – or less – sense that way.)






And yes, she’s amazing, but then take your grown-up non-AM radio ears and listen to the horns!

I got up and did things. I think the change of jobs has been a remarkably good thing.

But then we went to Walmart, where I ordered a canvas print. The photo place was slow, she said it would be done in a half-hour, we went wandering off to kill time, “Walk Like an Egyptian” was on the loudspeakers, nobody was around, I started doing like the song says, somebody came out of an aisle laughing at me.

I don’t think I did anything else particularly odd there, we got the print, we moved on. Driving home, we saw three bow-back chairs at the curb for sale, for $20. We parked the car, put the (non-Walmart) groceries away, put cash in my pocket, and walked back over there and got to the chairs literally seconds before this other person – maybe even just a second. I got all assertive and said, ‘Nope, sorry,” and paid the lady and we walked back carrying a chair and a half apiece. Now that they’re in my kitchen, I’m realizing that they look like Papa Bear’s chair – a ways past the average adult’s size. Don’t care. They’re solid, and I’ve been worrying about my kitchen chairs for years.

In other news; this last week, one scraggly stalk decided that there was time for a few more hollyhock blooms. Have a couple of pictures.



First up.

Seasonally appropriate shadows on my wall these mornings

More riffs on Sitting Zazen Octopus.

And an octopus.

These are weird little sketches, sort of. And all portrayed at an angle from how they should actually hang. At any rate, the way I like to work the most; from odd bits and pieces, assembled into what I guess Hume would call complex ideas.

Gotta go. Work!

(yes, I am reading Hume on my own time for fun. Because.)


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